Never Letting Go
by AnimaAmore
Summary: Young Draco is not happy when he's hauled into the muggle world until he befriends a smart muggle girl called Hermione. Before he returns, he makes her one last promise- to never let her memory go. Years later they meet again in an unexpected, cruel way
1. Chapter 1

_**NEVER LETTING GO**_

_**Chapter 1**_

**Summary: Draco and Hermione were good friends in their childhood, became so in that fateful summer when the Malfoys decided to spend their summer in a cabin in the muggle world - right across the lake from the Grangers' cabin. But then, Draco was hauled back into the wizarding world, making only one last promise to Hermione - to never let her memory go. Years later, Hermione, now a newly discovered witch, still holds on to the promise; only to receive the shock of her life when she's inadvertly thrown into a war between Death Eaters and the rest of the magical world... just to find Draco fighting for the Death Eaters. Dramione. (T)**

**Just a quick drabble. My first Harry Potter fic, and it's been a while since I've read to books or seen the movies, but be nice. I've been doing my research (namely, reading other fics). **

**Please read, review and enjoy!**

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><p>Seven-year old Draco Malfoy was not happy.<p>

Why would he be? He was being dragged against his will into a – shudder –_cabin_ in the _muggle world_.

What was the point? His parents, the proud Lord Lucius and Lady Narcissa Malfoy, had always gone on and on about how muggles were no better than the dirt under their boot; how they were pitiful, sad creatures without magic and so should be enslaved and put to work in their proper place – namely, become servants for the pureblood wizards. Such as his family, for instance.

Yes, that's right. The Malfoys were pureblood wizards. Since the beginning of time where wizards and witches first appeared, the Malfoy family has never, not once, taken a muggle or a muggle-born for a spouse. And so, their bloodline had remained pure of muggle-ness. Was that even a word? _It is now_, Draco decided, crossing his scrawny arms over his chest and sticking his chin out defiantly just like he'd seen his mother do, although he wasn't exactly defying anything at the moment.

Back to the topic at hand. Draco could simply not grasp what was going on in his parents' heads. If they looked down upon the muggles and everything and anything to do with them, why, oh _why_ were they going to the muggle world to live in a filthy, magic-less, stinky, diseased, and who knows what else cabin for the whole summer? Better question yet, why did they have to take him with them? He was perfectly content staying at home; the house elves would take care of him. Better yet, he would've loved to stay at his best friend's house like he was offered. Nothing better than to just goof off with his pal Blaise.

Blaise Zabini was an Italian pureblood wizard, just like Draco himself, and was Draco's best friend since diapers. Their families went way back, as in centuries, and the two boys were more than happy to continue the friendship despite being so different. Blaise was calm, collected, quiet, mischievous, manipulative and coldly calculating while Draco was loud, demanding, stubborn, startlingly blunt, cold, proud and at times a bit of a jerk. Okay, so he could be a jerk fairly often. In any case, Draco would've preferred to stay with Blaise and his family than go on the Merlin forsaken trip to the muggle world.

"Draco, stop pouting. It is not befitting of a Malfoy."

The young blonde boy turned his face from his window on the muggle train and focused his silver-grey eyes on his mother, the beautiful, aristocratic Narcissa Malfoy. He scowled. "Yes, mother."

Narcissa sent her son a look that clearly said to drop the moodiness, but settled for the scowl over the pout. Honestly, Malfoys were a proud family; pouting like they were children who just got told that they couldn't have a cookie was demeaning. No one had ever seen a Malfoy pout or make any facial expression of the like, and it was going to stay that way; even if the Malfoy on question was technically still a child. Family over the individual. Always.

"I still don't understand why we're going to the muggle world to live in a filthy, dingy and magic-less cabin," Draco complained, still scowling at the table that separated him from his parents, who sat across from him. "If muggles are as bad as you say, why in the name of Merlin's beard are we going there?"

"For the millionth time, Draco," Narcissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she struggled for patience. "We're going there because one, the muggle world is very beautiful in nature. At least the muggles have a sense of beauty. Two, you need to explore new places aside from our house, the Zabini's house, and our immediate neighbourhood; three, we really need a vacation and we've already been everywhere in the magical world while it's been years since we've taken a vacation in the muggle world, which, as I've already said, is beautiful and relaxing. And three, you'll learn the truth about muggles only if you experience them first hand. It's pretty useless to believe something just because someone told you it was true. You have to experience it first before you make any decisions."

Draco looked at his mother with a contemplating, though unhappy, expression. Everything his mother said made perfect sense, as always, and he understood it all. He just really happened to loathe all the reasons simply because he knew enough about the muggle world from what he'd been told and heard others say, and frankly, anything muggle related was the last thing he'd ever want to be in.

"Fine, I get it," he muttered moodily as he returned his gaze towards the window, gazing at the wildlife and occasional houses whizz by without really paying attention to any of it. Another reason for his unhappiness was that they were already in the muggle world, but now were in a muggle machine called a 'train' to go to the country. Why, oh why were they going _there_? "But what I still don't get is why a cabin? Muggles have advanced homes; I know that. I've seen it in pictures, heard some wizards describe it, and even read about it. Why are we staying in a cabin, which is as simple as it gets without actually being poor?"

"Because it's important to learn to live in simplicity even if we do have the means to live in luxury."

Draco scowled. "I still hate muggles and anything related to them," he grumbled. Narcissa frowned, her thin eyebrows drawing together at her son.

" 'Hate' is a strong word, Draco. Never use it."

Draco gave her an irritated look before correcting himself. "Fine, I _loathe_ anything muggle. Better?"

"Do not take that tone with me, mister. I'm your mother, and I deserve all your respect. And no, it's not better since you've never seen anything muggle-related and so you have no right to base off judgement on it."

"Father says it all the time." Narcissa's expression darkened, but Draco could see there was some sadness held in her eyes.

"That's because he has seen the muggle world and he isn't particularly fond of most of it. He also never learned to not say the h-word," she explained. Draco processed all this information, but before he could retort back in defence of his father, Narcissa interrupted him. "Go wash, Malfoy. Dinner will served be soon, and the line-up to wash will get long if you wait too long."

Draco wanted to say something else, but the tone his mother had spoken in clearly closed the conversation. So, with a nod of his head, and after excusing himself, he stood up and opened the door of their first-class compartment, bumping into an older muggle man who apologized with a friendly smile and walked away, not seeing Draco's disgusted face at being touched by him. Before Draco could close the compartment's door all the way, he heard his mother sadly whisper something he didn't quite catch.

It was only once he was in the train's bathroom that his mind figured out what she had said.

"Oh, Draco, I never meant for you to learn hate…"

Hearing the sadness in his mother's voice and the meaning of her words made Draco think twice about his beliefs. His father hated the muggle world but his mother didn't. They both had their opinions based on what they'd experienced. He had no experience, and he already hated something he didn't even know.

It was there, in the muggle bathroom of a muggle train heading from a muggle city to a muggle countryside, that Draco decided that if his mother could like the muggle world then it wasn't so bad.

_But they're only getting one chance_, he thought decisively to himself. _I'm giving the muggles and their world one chance. If they mess it up, I'll continue to hate them._

Satisfied with his decision, he headed back to his first-class compartment, where his mother and newly arrived father were waiting for him so they could order some dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

_**NLG Chapter 2**_

Draco Malfoy was many things by nature. Some things were just part of his individuality, such as curiosity, hunger for learning, and competitiveness; other things were traits he inherited from his family, such as arrogance, pride, and a tiny bit of God-complex. The remainder of his characteristics developed from his life experiences.

For example, he was spoiled silly because his parents pampered him like a prince; he was a brat because all he got was praise from everyone around him and no one aside from his parents ever dared to set him in his place if he crossed the line; he was jealous because everything he wanted he got and couldn't stand the though of someone having more than him. For that same token, though, he knew how to deeply value and treasure true friendships because a lot of people would suck up to him with ulterior motives; he was an excellent judge of character (although he sometimes chose to ignore what his senses were telling him) because he had to learn which people to trust in the complicated world of wizard politics and high-class society; he learned to be mature from a young age because too much naivety, even in a child, was dangerous in his family's world; he learned how to work hard and push himself so he could distinguish himself for what he did for himself, not for what his family name was; he learned to be wary of people because aside from having a lot of power even as a child, in the world of magic and wizardry, spells and incantations were often aimed at his family and specifically him and his young, impressionable mind; and finally, he learned how to spot the little treasures of the world which, as small and insignificant as they were, were all that brought the tiniest bit of pleasure and a genuine smile in his strict life.

It was in the fated trip to muggle world that he developed the desire and will to protect those little treasures. And it was in that trip that he found the biggest little treasure of all, in the shape of a mousy know-it-all girl the same age as him whose family owned a cabin right across the lake from his family's cabin.

It all started with her saying, "Hi. Why are you here all alone? Do you want to play with me?"

Her name was Hermione Granger. And she was a muggle.


End file.
